


Burned My Desire

by Cottonstones



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-22
Updated: 2012-06-22
Packaged: 2017-11-08 07:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/440453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cottonstones/pseuds/Cottonstones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon is a vampire with the power of mesmerization who takes an interest in a human Spencer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burned My Desire

Brendon’s first interaction with Spencer lasts long enough that Brendon takes Spencer back to the home base. William has disappeared somewhere (where, Brendon doesn’t know), running from those inept hunters; they'll find their way out of jail one way or another. Brendon is sure of it.

Brendon takes Spencer back to his room. Spencer is just beginning to come out of his trance, his eyes flickering with life, with his own control. That’s no good. Spencer stumbles and seems to awaken. He frowns at Brendon and stumbles backwards towards the door.

“Where? Where am I?” Spencer asks. He’s panicked, that much is obvious. Brendon smiles. He’s aiming for charming, but Spencer doesn’t appear to be swayed. Instead, he backs himself up against the door; he looks like an animal, trapped, scared. Brendon’s cock stirs in his pants.

“Hey,” Brendon says lowly. Spencer’s hand gropes for the knob, jiggles it uselessly. “Hey,” Brendon says again. He focuses this time, takes a deep breath and channels all of his will into Spencer. “Spencer, calm down, please.” Brendon watches as Spencer releases the knob, as his body falls still and loose. “Look at me,” Brendon requests, and Spencer does, his head tipping up and his eyes meeting Brendon’s. “You don’t really want to leave, do you?” Brendon asks. His voice is a deep, low rumble echoing from his chest, and hr watches carefully, watches as Spencer’s pupils dilate, huge, darkened, like he’s turned on, like he’s drugged.

Spencer shakes his head. “No. I want to stay,” he says. Spencer’s voice is low, a ragged whisper. Brendon nods and he smiles, Spencer copying after a delayed moment.

“Yes, I know you do. You were just startled. That’s it. Now come here,” Brendon says. He cradles his mind carefully, tucking it away until further notice. He’s become so practiced at controlling humans that it’s as easy and commonplace as breathing, as talking. Spencer pushes off the door and comes to Brendon, moving again as if he’s on strings, being pulled by Brendon, led by him.

Spencer comes to Brendon, falls into his open and awaiting arms. Brendon rests his hand on Spencer’s back, his skin warm through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. Brendon cups Spencer’s soft cheek and ducks his head to kiss Spencer. It's not for the first time, but it’s still fresh enough, Spencer’s taste is exotic and unfamiliar enough that it’s exciting. He doesn’t respond at first, but Brendon just kisses him more insistently, the hand resting at Spencer’s back moving upward to cup the back of his head.

Brendon slips his tongue into Spencer’s mouth and Spencer responds by sloppily running his tongue along the sharp points of Brendon’s fangs.

Brendon hums into Spencer’s mouth. This is nice, but it isn’t Brendon’s intention, bringing Spencer here just to make out with him. Brendon pulls back from Spencer’s mouth, licking his lips. Spencer watches the movement of Brendon’s tongue across his full lips.

“You’re so lovely,” Brendon says, he rubs his thumb across Spencer’s bottom lip. “Do you want to do something for me? You do, don’t you? You’re going to be so good to me,” Brendon says. He speaks slow, low, fogging up Spencer’s mind. Spencer nods, leans into Brendon’s touch. Brendon laughs and takes a step back from Spencer. “On your knees,” he says, resting a gloved hand against Spencer’s shoulder and easing him down to his knees even though Spencer needs no encouragement, already lulled by Brendon’s voice into doing whatever Brendon asks of him whether he actively wants to or not.

Spencer is settled on his knees, hands in his lap, waiting for the next command, the next idea to be implemented. Brendon doesn’t make Spencer open his pants. He’s too eager to issue the command, to wait for clumsy, almost-drunk fingers to undo the button and fly. Brendon lowers his pants down to his knees; he’s not wearing undergarments, which William says is very un-Dandyish behavior. Brendon’s cock is already hard, flushed and full with the anticipation of what’s to come.

“You’re going to suck me,” Brendon says. Spencer, this strange boy that Brendon knows nothing about besides how his mouth tastes and how good he looks on his knees, tips his head back. He licks his lips and his eyes darken. Brendon thinks they’re mirroring his own. Spencer is as much as a shell right now, only containing Brendon’s emotions, shared between them. Spencer runs his strong hands up Brendon’s pale legs, fingers brushing fine hair, touching at soft thighs, and then Spencer curls his fingers around Brendon’s dick. Brendon hisses and Spencer is watching blankly, thumbing lightly at the head of Brendon’s cock.

Brendon is leaking already, Spencer spreading pre-come around the head.

“Wet your hand,” Brendon says. Spencer draws back and, with a sinfully long tongue, licks over his palm, wetting his hand for a better slide. He touches Brendon’s cock again. Brendon hums and his pleasure encourages Spencer. Brendon thinks that Spencer is touching him the way he always touches himself. He slides his hand almost painfully slow up and down the length of Brendon’s cock. He squeezes at the base and his thumb reaches out to brush against the heavy weight of Brendon’s balls.

“Your mouth,” Brendon reminds. The pleasure had been distracting him, loosening the instructions from Brendon to Spencer. Brendon touches Spencer’s cheek, thumb brushing over his cheek. “Take my glove off,” Brendon says and Spencer, without removing his hand from Brendon’s dick, leans in and bites at the white cloth, catching it between his teeth and tugging backwards, stripping Brendon’s hand of the glove.

Brendon pets Spencer, naked fingers threading in Spencer’s hair. He pulls a little and Spencer gasps. Brendon smirks and Spencer leans in towards Brendon’s hands. Brendon cups the back of Spencer’s head. “Your mouth now,” he repeats, guiding Spencer’s head towards his yearning dick. Spencer keeps his clouded, blank eyes open and opens his mouth without argument, tongue out.

The leaking head of Brendon’s cock bumps against the damp heat of Spencer’s tongue and Brendon shudders. His hand is still holding the back of Spencer’s neck, thumb brushing hair and skin. Spencer closes his eyes for a moment, dark lashes fanning out against pale, freckled cheeks, and he opens his mouth wider, letting Brendon angle his hips. The head of Brendon’s dick slips inside Spencer’s mouth.

Spencer keeps his tongue flat, running against the underside of Brendon’s dick. Spencer closes his lips around Brendon’s cock, sucks at the head, his cheeks hollowing. Brendon presses the pad of his thumb against Spencer’s hollowed cheek, and when he tilts his hips, thrusts shallowly, he can feel the heavy, thick shape of his dick brushing against the inside of Spencer’s cheek.

Spencer is reluctant to take Brendon any deeper on his own, even in his hypnotized state. He won’t go on until Brendon tells him to. Brendon lowers his fingers from Spencer’s cheek to the line of his jaw. “Open,” Brendon whispers and he can feel when Spencer obliges and drops his jaw wider. Brendon uses his hand to guide Spencer down, testing, explaining what he wants Spencer to do. Brendon keeps Spencer’s head lowering, further and further, Brendon’s cock sinking in inch by inch. He bumps Spencer’s throat and he groans openly at that, Spencer copying the sound, his mangled by Brendon’s cock in his mouth, down his throat.

Brendon keeps pushing until he's past the back of Spencer’s throat. Spencer gags. He doesn’t draw back, though, because Brendon hasn’t told him to and his mind is locked up under Brendon’s will, his body ignoring all of the natural urges it should have. Brendon can feel Spencer’s throat constricting around his cock. Spencer gags, his throat trying to push Brendon out. Brendon doesn’t stop urging Spencer forward until Spencer’s nose is pressed against Brendon’s pale stomach, his chin resting against Brendon’s balls. Spencer’s hands are on Brendon’s thighs, and even though he’s gagging and probably can’t breathe, his hands are perfectly still, just resting against Brendon’s legs. Brendon realizes with a little spike of pleasure just how much control he has over this boy, how he could end his life and Spencer wouldn’t even complain. He could even have Spencer beg for the release of death if he wanted.

Brendon does pull back, though. He doesn’t want to hurt Spencer. He likes Spencer. Brendon slips out of the tight, encompassing heat of Spencer’s mouth, and whether or not Brendon asked him to, Spencer sputters, gags, spit dribbling from his mouth. Spencer removes a hand from Brendon’s thigh and uses it to wipe away the excess spit and bile. Spencer doesn’t fall into some neutral state. He doesn’t go limp and blank and wait for Brendon to give an order. Instead Spencer tips his head up and opens his mouth, his jaw wide, reverting back to the last instruction Brendon had formed in his mind.

Brendon doesn’t hesitate to slide his cock back between Spencer’s lips, the slow, burning drag of Spencer’s tongue curling around his dick. Spencer’s mouth squelches as Brendon thrusts inside shallowly. He cups Spencer’s chin and holds on as he fucks Spencer’s mouth. Brendon’s room is silent, save for the sound of his heavy breathing and the wet, slick sounds of Spencer sucking Brendon.

Spencer is so good, so pliant (not that he has much of a choice or say in the matter). He does what Brendon wants, only thinks as far as Brendon wants him to. After all is said and done, Brendon will let him come back to himself and Spencer will be fine, he’ll be the same person he was before.

Spencer makes these small little noises, these wet little groans as Brendon’s cock bumps at his throat.

“You’re a good boy,” Brendon praises. He buries his fingers in Spencer’s hair and pulls a little. Spencer hums, the vibrations skittering up Brendon’s cock and buzzing around his spine. “Such a good boy,” he repeats. He's close, and when he’s close, he begins to lose control of the person he’s charmed. Spencer’s fingers twitch against Brendon’s thighs and he blinks, shifting on his knees and making a questioning sound as Brendon continues to fuck his throat, deep, fast, his balls slapping against Spencer’s chin. Brendon needs to slow down, needs to regain control.

Brendon tips Spencer’s head back, his cock slipping from Spencer’s mouth, the shiny head brushing over Spencer’s swollen lips. Brendon and Spencer’s eyes are locked. Brendon focuses his mind, his will, and he sinks his senses into Spencer’s. “Don’t stop now,” Brendon whispers, his voice is tight with arousal. Spencer’s eyes flicker from clear and alive to foggy and dead. Brendon regains control.

“Open back up for me,” Brendon says and Spencer does without question. Brendon takes his cock in his hand and guides the damp head against Spencer’s lips, pre-come catching and sticking to his wet, pink lips. “Take as much as you’re able to,” Brendon commands. Spencer does, his head held back by Brendon’s hand, his mouth working to swallow Brendon down.

It’s messy, spit, sliding out of the corners of Spencer’s mouth, choking noises, everything so slick and hot. Brendon isn’t going to last long. It’s okay. It’s almost daylight and he intends on getting Spencer far away from here before he brings him back from the brink. He doesn’t want anyone else, none of the other Dandies, to fuck with him, to try and eat him or turn him. Spencer is his. Whether or not he likes that fact is of little importance to Brendon.

He thrusts once, twice, holds Spencer’s head down again as he comes inside of Spencer’s mouth. A roar practically rips its way through Brendon’s chest. “Keep it,” Brendon grunts. “Swallow it all down.”

Brendon pulls out, his spent, shiny dick slipping from Spencer’s mouth. Brendon watches as Spencer swallows the come that he’s collected in his mouth. He swallows and he opens his mouth to prove to Brendon that he’s done what was asked of him. Brendon smiles and pets Spencer’s hair again. He reaches out and touches at Spencer’s arms, drawing him up so that he’s standing erect. Spencer is taller than Brendon and it’s delicious and tempting. Brendon motions for Spencer to lean in towards him, and once Spencer’s close enough, Brendon kisses him, quick and filthy, snaking his tongue in for a taste of his own come.

Spencer isn’t hard. Of course he isn’t, because his body is not his own. Brendon releases Spencer while he tucks himself back into his pants, does up his zipper and belt, picks up his glove, slips it back on. He intends on taking Spencer back to where he found him or somewhere safer if the punks haven’t disbanded and headed in for the night. Brendon isn’t worried. Once he’s sunken into someone else's subconscious, he’s instantly able to find that human amongst the legions of them that call the city home. He’ll always be able to find Spencer when he wants him.

Brendon reaches out and takes Spencer’s hand in his own. “Follow me,” Brendon tells Spencer. Spencer’s fingers lace with Brendon’s own and he follows blindly, going wherever Brendon will take him.


End file.
